Bust a WHAT
by DemonicPiano
Summary: During one of those random, undescribed meetings, Arthur hears some young lingo, 'Bust a nut,' and gets curious. Alfred messes with him and tells him it means something else entirely, so he could go around and say it all the time.
1. Part 1

_Author's Note- When will the government stop my sinful hand?!_

* * *

"So, in this video, the chick was _all_ over the guy. Like, all over, right?"

"Al, I don't think this is really appropriate for work. What if the wrong person hears it?"

That wrong person possibly being one of the other meeting's board members, Arthur, sitting close enough to the twins, Alfred and Matthew, to catch their loud whisperings. He gave the pair some heavy side eye, but Alfred insisted with flapping hands, as if that could ever lower his voice.

"Dude, it's important. You _have_ to hear it," he continued despite his brother's weak stammering and shifty glances to the oblivious men and women around the room. "Just when the 'whoa' part happens, the guy says, 'I'm gonna bust a nut!' Then the _chick_ freaking says, 'Me too!' And I then I say, 'What?!' and then the guy was like, 'What?!' So it turns out, the chick was actually a guy-"

"What?!" Matthew exclaimed a bit too loudly. "How do you not notice-"

"That's what I said! You should have seen-"

"All right," Arthur smacked his palms against the table, earning dubious looks from judgmental onlookers. "That's enough. More than enough. Stow it until after the meeting or something! Not here."

Alfred let out a low whistle as his brother shifted awkwardly in his seat, shrinking from the old geezer's gaze. "Okay, bossy britches." After a moment of silence, and a moment for a triumphant smirk to creep onto Arthur's face, Alfred poked in, "Don't bust a nut."

Matthew covered whatever sound he just made with a cough.

There was an angry hiss from his other side, "What does that even mean anyway?!"

'Pulled into idiocy trap' mission status: Success. One could even hear the building excitement (and volume) in Alfred's voice, "Oh! You haven't heard?"

Matthew warned through gritted teeth, "Al. No."

Alfred put on his best shit-eating grin. "Uh, when you say, 'Bust a nut,' it means you're really, really angry!"

His brother face-palmed.

Arthur lifted his eyebrows, more doubtful than curious. "Really now? What does that have to do with...what garbage you were spewing out of your face?"

"Well, when your...uh, 'love buddy' lies to you about 'some things,' you'd get mad. I would think _you_ would, or should, get mad, is what I mean. So, the guy in this 'video' I was watching told his chick, or other guy in this case, he was about to 'bust a nut' because she made him so mad!"

"Your nuts? Busting?!"

"Yeah!" The lies seem to come so easily. "It's like saying you popped a blood vessel, but you know...it's what all the young kids say these days. Would you understand though? Ha-ha!"

"Oh please," Arthur dismissed obnoxious cackles with a flustered wave of his hand. "I may not be as young as you, but I am _far_ more 'hip' than you'll ever be."

"Sure, old man, keep telling yourself that."

Somebody angrily hushed them, as if their whole meeting, or perhaps whole day was ruined because of a few loud whispers.

"Yes, hush," Arthur said, getting the last word in. He dumbly blinked before a tossing a sly glance to Alfred. "Or else I'm going to bust a nut over you."

"Hah!" Alfred smacked Matthew's arm once Arthur turned his attention to the hostess of the meeting. Then, Al repeatedly tapped his brother until Matthew swatted back at him. " _Ohmygod_. Do you hear that? I totally got him!"

Matthew replied as dryly as humanly possible, "Yeah. You sure showed him, all right."

All Alfred needed was to deviously rub his hands together and chuckle menacingly with all these beautiful opportunities sprawling before him, but they would have to wait until after the meeting.


	2. Part 2

_Author's Note - Part two. This is more narrative than the last part, but it's building up to the CLIMAX of this planned trilogy._ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

* * *

There was another 'business' meeting immediately scheduled for the following weekend. The 'Big Guys' were growing concerned over repeating offenses of masked hoodlums raiding local ice cream chains and trucks, and due to the great decrease of morale in the local police force, they decided a new approach was necessary. A political one. Whatever that meant.

Arthur paid no mind to the shoddy reasons sent via automated voice message. For crying out loud, they could not even spare a finger for an e-mail. His bosses were just mad that they could not get their push-pops after a very, so very stressful day of air conditioned office work. Arthur was mad because this meant he could not spend the weekend at the closest bar, making horrible memories. Not that the head offices cared. They only cared about their damned ice cream.

So, of course, when he woke up the morning of the fated meeting, Arthur was already fuming. At least after pulling himself out of bed and out of his motel room, there was something to look forward to; guzzling a well needed, piping hot cup of Early Grey from the nearest shop, all wrapped up in a Styrofoam To-Go cup. Wonderful. A lot of people do not associate withdraws with tea, but as he was bustling down busy sidewalks, Arthur was growing parched.

Enough of that introductory nonsense. He went in, waited in line with the rest of the zombies, and when it was _finally_ his turn at the counter-

"Sorry, sir," the barista droned in a not-very-sorry tone of voice, "we don't have anymore Earl Grey."

 _Snap._ There went Arthur's last strand of sanity he was dangling from. "What? What do you mean you don't have it?"

"Uh, I mean we're out of packets of Earl Grey. Is there anything else or-"

"What am I supposed to do for tea, then?!"

The cashier glanced to the line forming. "We have chamomile, if you want."

Arthur scoffed. "Yeah. Sure, I'll take chamomile...if it was seven o' clock at night and not in the bloody morning!"

Someone groaned behind him. "It's too early for this crap."

The expression on the barista's face said the same thing. "How about coffee-"

"How about I shove my foot up your ass?!"

A wave of quiet fell on the café before a few giggles came from some of the tables.

"Okay sir," the barista was fighting his own laughter, "if you're not going to get anything, then-"

Arthur slammed his palms on the counter in an awful mix of embarrassment and anger, "Don't patronize me!"

"Hey!" One of the managers behind the counter barked, "Stop harassing my worker! He said we're out, so that means we're out! Flipping your shit is not going to make a tea packet magically appear for you!"

After stammering incoherently, Arthur declared, "That's it! I'm going to bust a nut!"

The barista gawked in horror. "Over tea, man?!"

"Yes! All over the damned tea!"

"Okay," the manager pulled out her cellphone from her slacks, "I'm going to call the police."

"What good are they going to do," Arthur tossed a nasty hand in the air as he turned away, "without their damned ice cream? Without my damned tea!"

Passersby made sure to dodge and swerve out of Arthur's way as he comically stomped his way to the meeting.


	3. Part 3

_Author's Note- Part 3. The grand finale. Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay! Yay, right? Help._

* * *

"Whoa! You look pissed!"

Arthur held up a hand, blocking the grin that was a little too bright and cheery for this world. "Piss off and out of my way, Alfred. Unfortunately, I have things to do."

"Oh, yeah!" Alfred followed his stomps from the main lobby to one of the meeting rooms. "It's your turn to go up today." He cackled, practically in Arthur's ear, "Woo, let's see how that's going to go!"

Arthur hissed through gritted teeth, "I thought I told you to piss off." He yanked open the appropriate door and wound up stepping on one of Alfred's dress shoes. Good. Everyone was yapping over the smell of coffee, but to him, each voice was a hammer to his tea-deprived skull. Who has all that energy at seven in the morning, anyway?

They set their papers, folders and other important looking stuff by their respective seats, and Arthur figured since the last few stragglers were waltzing in, he would glance over his work again. He slammed a fist on the table and cursed, much to the dismay of his neighbors, who apparently never swore in their lives before.

"Alfred, I forgot the...the...damn it, time table key or whatever it is. Can..." Arthur made a bunch of funky faces from the incoming shame mixing with the fog in his mind. "Can I use yours?"

"Huh? Sure, dude, it's right on top." Alfred watched two furrowed caterpillar-brows with a permanent grin on his face. "Unlike you. You seem like you're about to bust-"

Arthur barked, "I am about to!" He shook his head and glanced over the paper he pulled out. He blanched in disgust and jabbed a finger at it as if Alfred could not see, "Look at this! I can't read your handwriting! Where's Matthew? I'll just use his!"

" _Pfft,_ he was still in bed when I left our room."

"Ugh!" Arthur threw the piece of paper at Alfred, but since it was a piece of paper, it fluttered unthreateningly to the floor. "Whatever, I'll deal without!"

"Okay, have fun."

Arthur picked up his papers, folders and other important looking stuff, and stormed to the head of the conjoined tables. He slammed them on the surface to get attention, "All right, let's start this crap."

The room quieted a bit. Just a little bit. These were adults; nobody tells them what to do! Well...besides their bosses, but Arthur was just another victim of the ice cream deficiency that plagued this city.

Someone promptly busted into tears, "I hadn't had any Rocky Road in six days! Six days!"

Someone else announced, "Eugh! That's what you get for liking that junk! Neapolitan is where it's at!"

" _Really_? Neapolitan? Get that weak crap out of here."

Arthur tossed his hands in the air, "Oh for the love of...can we not do this about the damned ice cream?!"

"Six days!" Another board member scoffed, "Try two weeks!"

Thus sparred the Pain Olympics with everyone competing for the longest struggle. The disgusting smell of coffee jostled around the room, and Matthew had just snuck into the 'meeting' as if he was performing the walk of shame, and Arthur really should have gone with the chamomile, and Alfred's pecking laughter shot from the crowd, and the more the whole ice cream fiasco carried on-

Arthur snatched his papers, folders and other important looking stuff off of the table, and with an incoherent shriek, he whipped them at the closest wall. People gasped in horror and some even screamed as their abuser repeatedly smacked the table with more animalistic hollering.

"Ragh! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Arthur stopped for a sharp inhale. After that hit to the wall, the room fell quiet with a few worried murmurs over how red his face could become.

"I am going to. Bust. A. Bloody. Nut. All over this meeting room, and all over you stupid twats!"

Someone whispered, "Holy cow."

The previously silent room was interrupted by Alfred losing his marbles like a maniac, and he almost even fell backwards off his chair. Matthew mumbled in sympathy as Arthur stomped around the table, smacked the back of Alfred's head and streaked out of the room, still shouting over ice cream thieves and evil baristas.

"Oh God! Oh my God!" Alfred kept going and swatting his brother's arm. "He just said that! Oh, man!"

Matthew shot from his seat and went after Arthur. Usually for these types of embarrassment and angst, people flee to the bathroom. There is just something comforting about pressing their cheeks to the cold porcelain of a toilet and crying.

Arthur was grumbling to himself, but trailed off when the door creaked open. Matthew kept a hand on the handle for easy escape. "Uh...Arthur?"

"What?!"

"It's Matthew."

"Oh. What?"

"Arthur, please don't get angry, but I have to tell you something."

"I'm already angry! All this ice cream business. No Earl Grey? What café does not have Earl Grey?! People just expect me to drink coffee instead, like that's okay, all the while they cry and complain about not having any ice cream when there's still frozen yogurt around!"

Matthew kept quiet.

"So, what the Hell do you want?"

"Uh...what Alfred told you...about the...the 'nut' thing..." Matthew actually had to explain this to another grown man. "It's wrong."

"What?"

"What you're saying is wrong. Uh...'bust a nut' doesn't mean that you're really angry. It...it means...ugh, it means you're going to finish. So, when Al was talking about his porn the other day...yeah. Surprise?"

Arthur did not say anything. Matthew tightened his grip on the door handle. There was a rustle of cloth, and the stall door busted open with a yell, "You filthy, squawking tit!"

"Eek!" Matthew threw open the door to get away from the small, angry man. He didn't know what else to say as Arthur almost _sprinted_ back to the meeting room, "Good luck?"

"I am going to bust a nut for real this time!"

"Oh. Have fun?"

~.~

That night, Alfred returned to their shared hotel room, appearing to be haunted for four hundred years. Before his brother could say anything, he totally fake-laughed over his shame, "Oh, man! You should have seen it! He really busted a nut that time!"


End file.
